


Love On the Brain

by cy_owns_this_whorehouse



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Creampie, Cunnilingus, Daddy Kink, Enemies With Benefits, Hate Sex, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Oral Sex, Original Character(s), Power Bottom Kurapika, Trans Kurapika, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Sex, completely self indulgant, i'm going to stop tagging now, kurapika has a daddy kink, the oc is a member of the phantom troupe if that's intriguing, this is my fic and i write what i want, unprotected sex! oh no!, well at least Kurapika can't get pregnant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:21:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27101131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cy_owns_this_whorehouse/pseuds/cy_owns_this_whorehouse
Summary: Kurapika hates Kanahara more than anything. Kanahara, like an idiot, is absolutely whipped for Kurapika. Even though he's a member of the Phantom Troupe. Oh well, Kurapika likes Kanahara's dick and well, that has to be enough.Basically, hate fucking. That's all.
Relationships: Kurapika (Hunter X Hunter)/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	Love On the Brain

**Author's Note:**

> It's 6 in the morning and I haven't slept because I had to write this monster. enjoy the pointless smut teehee

It was happening again. And Kurapika hated every second of it. 

Yet-- here he was nevertheless, pressed against a cold, foreign alley wall with Kanahara’s tongue in his mouth and his hands tangled in Kanahara’s stupidly soft hair. 

They couldn’t stay away from each other, despite the fact that Kurapika had  _ literally  _ promised to kill the stupid acrobat someday. Kanahara didn’t seem to mind, he just kept coming back for more. 

Just like he had in the very beginning, what felt like a billion years ago, when he’d followed Kurapika around in the hunter exam like a lovesick puppy. Kurapika just couldn’t be rid of him, no matter how hard he tried. Oh and how he tried, but apparently stabbing Kanahara in the stomach four times, trying to strangle him, pushing him off a bridge and bashing his skull against a rock wasn’t nearly enough to drive him away. In fact, Kanahara had thought it was  _ hot. _

And over time, despite Kurapika’s many attempts to kill the little bastard to finally be rid of the Phantom Troupe, Kanahara just kept coming back and kept being  _ endearing  _ and  _ apologizing _ and making Kurapika-- he shuddered-- actually  _ like  _ him. 

He hated liking him, Kurapika thinks, as Kanahara’s cold hands slide against his stomach and make him shiver. He hated everything about Kanahara, from his bangs to his red eyeliner to his stupidly cute donkey laugh to his habit of chewing his own hair when he got nervous to that annoying fact that he was, in fact, a member of the fucking Phantom Troupe. 

He was, by all accounts, infuriating. 

Kurapika just couldn’t get enough. 

As Kanahara licks the back of Kurapika’s teeth and slots a thigh between Kurapika’s legs, Kurapika makes a fim promise to himself. This will be the very last time he ever lets Kanahara pull this bullshit again. He’d cross half the world if he could get away from Kanahara and the want that filled his bones whenever he saw him.

Kanahara pulls away with a soft, wet sound, lips red and glistening. Kurapika’s eyes flick red for a second as he looks down at him then back up. Kanahara’s eyes are widely dilated, the silver irises a ring around pools of black that looked like they wanted to devour Kurapika whole.

“I can hear you thinking from here,” Kanaraha says softly, voice rough with want and it goes straight to Kurapika’s pussy. He makes a quiet sound of frustration and shakes his head, pulling on Kanahara’s hair to make him shut up. 

“Don’t fucking talk to me,” Kurapika hisses at him, and Kanahara groans. 

“Oh, fuck, do that again,” Kanahara breathes, and Kurapika can feel Kanahara’s pants swell against his hip. Kurapika licks his lips. 

“This is the last time we’re doing this,” Kurapika warns, though he sounds uncertain even to his own ears as he grabs Kanahara by the wrist and tugs him out of the alley, off to the hotel across the street that Kurapika had been staying at. 

“That’s what you said last time, honeybee,” Kanahara purrs, sliding his hand under Kurapika’s shirt and gripping his waist tightly. Kurapika feels breathless, his pulse going a million miles an hour. 

“Just-- shut up,” he mutters, and Kanahara smirks as they get in the elevator. As soon as the doors close Kanahara has Kurapika pushed right up against the wall again, wasting absolutely no time in getting his mouth around Kurapika’s pulse point and sucking hard, making Kurapika’s knees buckle with a soft whimper. 

He clutches Kanahara’s biceps to stay up, digging his nails into the skin of his bare arms because  _ fuck,  _ he  _ hates  _ how utterly weak Kanahara makes him. He pushes lightly on Kanahara’s chest as the elevator makes a pleasant ding, but Kanahara doesn’t move back. Instead, he slips his arms under Kurapika’s thighs and picks him up, so he doesn’t have to stop kissing the blonde as he carries him down the hall to his room. 

Kurapika fumbles for the key from his pocket and silently prays that no one exits their room right at that moment because the way Kanahara is sucking on his tongue is absolutely obscene and would definitely scar any innocent bystander. 

As soon as the room is open Kanahara shuffles him bodily inside, barely managing to kick the door shut before he’s collapsing on top of Kurapika on the bed and shoving his hands up his shirt with his mouth on Kurapika’s neck. 

Kurapika is definitely just as eager, as much as he tries to deny it, grabbing at the straps across Kanahara’s chest to make him take that ridiculous harness shirt off. Kanahara whines, not wanting to move his mouth from Kurapika’s skin, but Kurapika wants to get on his cock as soon as possible and it’s moving way too slow for his tastes. 

Kanahara bites at the lobe of Kurapika’s ear before he sits up, straddling Kurapika’s hips and scrambling at the buckles on his harness to get it off. 

He looks so pretty from this angle, Kurapika thinks vaguely, looking up at Kanahara from where he’s splayed on the sheets, hands tight on Kanahara’s hips. He really, really wants Kanahara to ride him and cry and beg him for more more  _ more _ \-- but Kurapika doesn’t have a strap because he hadn’t expected to run into Kanahara here. Damn it. 

Kanahara  _ finally  _ gets that shirt off and immediately sets to work on Kurapika, tugging both his over and undershirts off of him and tossing them onto the floor. 

“You’d better fold those later,” Kurapika warns as Kanahara runs his cold hands down Kurapika’s milky skin, and Kanahara just grins, fangs glinting in the fading sunlight. 

“Sure, honeybee, if I remember,” he says dismissively, his hands exploring down the trail of soft skin of Kurapika’s stomach, twirling a fingertip into the soft golden curls that are exposed just above the waistline of Kurapika’s pants. 

Kurapika just watches him, eyes half lidded as Kanahara slides his hands to the jut of Kurapika’s hips and rubs his thumbs there, bending his head and pressing a kiss to Kurapika’s chest. His dark hair sweeps over his shoulder and tickles Kurapika’s skin, making him squirm a little. 

Kanahara finally-- _ finally--  _ moves his head and slithers his tongue out and curls his mouth around one of Kurapika’s nipples and Kurapika has to stifle a moan, because he always forgets how good it feels. Kanahara sucks softly then gently worries his teeth around his hardened nipple, and Kurapika can feel himself soaking his boxers with a whimper. 

Kanahara sucks once more then moves his head away, licking a stripe over his nipple before moving to Kurapika’s neck, determined to mark it up the way he did everytime. Making sure that Kurapika knew who he belonged to.

It made Kurapika sick, because he fucking hated Kanahara, but the butterflies in his stomach and the way he was slowly soaking through his loose pants told a wildly different story. 

He felt almost ashamed, he was so wet and he’d barely been touched yet. But then again, it had been a really long time and...well, Kanahara was good at what he did. He affected Kurapika in ways that no one else ever had or likely ever would. 

Kanahara shifts upwards and captures Kurapika’s mouth in a kiss that feels like it’ll melt Kurapika from the inside out, and the feeling of Kanahara’s bare skin sliding over his own makes him gasp. It makes Kanahara whimper and get harder against Kurapika’s stomach, and Kurapika decides there’s been enough foreplay. 

He slides his hands down Kanahara’s back and presses them down his pants, trying to both slide them off his ass and feel him up at the same time. But Kanahara pulls away immediately, pushing Kurapika’s hands away.

“No way, honeybee, I’m going to make  _ you  _ feel good first,” Kanahara says, shifting off the bed so he’s standing in between Kurapika’s legs. “Can I?” he says, hooking long fingers under the waistband of Kurapika’s pants. 

Kurapika, blushing furiously, nods. Kanahara carefully slides his pants and boxers off and away, whistling very softly at how wet Kurapika has become. “Wow. Eager?” he says softly, and Kurapika huffs and looks away. 

Kanahara just laughs and lifts Kurapika’s legs, gently spreading him open and sinking to his knees. Kurapika opens his mouth to say something but Kanahara buries his face in Kurapika’s pussy and everything he was about to say flies out of his brain. His hands fly into Kanahara’s long hair and Kanahara makes a rumbling little sound against his folds, making Kurapika’s legs shake. 

His mouth is so  _ hot _ and his tongue is so  _ long _ and he knows just where to curl and suck and chuff against and it’s driving Kurapika mad. Kanahara very carefully drags his front teeth over Kurapika’s clit and Kurapika feels fireworks explode up his spine, thighs trembling around Kanahara’s head. 

Kanahara sucks softly around his clit and two smooth fingers find their way into Kurapika’s folds, wet from his slick and pressing just right into him. His feet slide for purchase against Kanahara’s back and his hands tighten in his hair, as Kanahara’s tongue flicks and drags over his clit and makes him moan. 

“Hara,” he moans, and Kanahara looks up, chin dripping. He lazily pumps his fingers in and out of Kurapika’s dripping pussy, not doing much but filling him up. 

“Yes, honeybee?” he coos, spreading his fingers a little and making Kurapika squeak. 

“I want to-- ah!”

He yelps because Kanahara has crooked his fingers and driven them into his g-spot, making him feel as though he’s about to cum. 

“ _ Fuck,  _ I--” 

And suddenly Kanahara is drawing his fingers out, using the back of his hand to wipe his mouth. Kurapika feels empty and frustrated, rutting helplessly on empty air. Kanahara stands, makes eye contact with Kurapika, and licks his slick off of his fingers. Kurapika takes a shaky breath as he watches Kanahara’s stupidly long tongue trail over his fingers, and he wishes to god he had his fucking strap so he could make Kanahara suck his cock like a good boy.

When Kanahara is finished, he reaches right back down with saliva slick fingers and presses his thumb against Kurapika’s clit, rolling it in short, soft circles.    
  
“What did you want, honeybee?” he says coolly, sliding his other hand up to pluck at Kurapika’s nipples. Kurapika’s back arches with a huff of frustrated, pleasured breath.

“Ngh-- I-- I want to ride you-- hahh~” he can barely think with Kanahara touching him like that, making him feel as though a star is melting in the core of his stomach, making sweat drip down his temples and his hair stick to his forehead.

“Okay, bee, I can do that,” he says, forgetting half the nickname in his excitement to get Kurapika on top of him. He gives Kurapika’s clit a final little flick, which makes Kurapika flinch and squeak, and stands up straight to kick his shoes off and tug the rest of his clothes off. He tries to get back on the bed, but Kurapika shoves a foot against his body and gives him an expression that clearly says  _ wait.  _ Kanahara looks very unhappy, but he freezes anyway, watching Kurapika.

Kurapika rakes hungry eyes down Kanaraha’s body, pressing his feet against the other man’s hips to keep him a distance away so he can just look at him for a while. He swallows hard as he lets his eyes, scarlet and hungry, trace over Kanahara’s cock and up his beautifully muscled body to lock eyes with him. 

Kanahara swallows hard and a bead of precum slides down his cock, silver eyes wide as he stares at Kurapika. There’s a moment while they wait there, both so turned on it hurts to breathe but unable to look away or move, staring deep into each other’s eyes with shaking hands and sweat dripping down pale skin. 

The moment is broken when Kurapika lets his legs fall, feet slipping off Kanahara’s hips, and Kanahara practically lunges forward onto him. They collapse together and tangle against the sheets, teeth clacking together as they come together in a wet, messy clash of mouths and bodies that can hardly be called a kiss. 

They tangle and wrestle against each other for a few minutes, gasping into each others mouths and trembling against each other and moaning names and sounds of pleasure and dripping all over the sheets and then Kanahara is underneath him and Kurapika sits up, hair wet against the back of his neck and a drop of sweat dripping off his delicate nose to fall against the corner of Kanahara’s mouth. Kanahara’s tongue snakes out and laps it up, and Kurapika groans quietly to himself. 

Kurapika sits back and settles on Kanahara’s thighs, making Kanahara prop himself up on his elbows to get a proper look at him. Kurapika smirks at him and wraps an elegant hand around Kanahara’s thick cock and gives him a few strokes. Now it’s Kanahara’s turn to whimper, stroking his hands up Kurapika’s smooth thighs and holding on tight to him. 

Kurapika sits up further, hand still stroking Kanahara’s cock, and starts to slide it through his wet, warm folds. Kanaraha tosses his head back, long hair tangled against the sheets like a tangle of black seaweed, and moans. Kurapika circles his hips around the head of Kanahara’s cock, making Kanahara shudder and arch his hips up like he wanted nothing more than to fuck into Kurapika until he cried. 

“Tell me how much you want it,” Kurapika suddenly demands, because he feels rather drunk on power at the moment with Kanahara trembling and aching underneath him. Kanahara’s half closed eyes snap open and he snares. 

“Whoah, h-honeybee, you’re--nghghh--you’re having it tonight, huh,” he whispers, and Kurapika moves his hips away from Kanahara’s cock. Kanahara whines deeply and his hands tighten in Kurapika’s thighs, where he’ll definitely have bruises to match the ones on his neck in the morning. 

“I don’t know what you want me to--” 

A chain wraps around Kanahara’s neck and he chokes, eyes widening even further. Kurapika bitterly thought that this was at least one upside to Kanahara being a member of the Phantom Troupe. 

“Beg,” Kurapika spits. 

Kanahara struggles for a second, he doesn’t like being the one underneath it all, but he can feel Kurapika dripping on his thigh and he wants him so bad that it actually hurts. He grinds his hips up and feels his core tremble, eyes shutting with a gasping moan as Kurapika slides a fingertip across the head of his cock. 

“H-honeybee~ fuck~ you’ll kill me,” he chokes out, and Kurapika hisses in displeasure. Kanahara swallows hard, then pulls out the word he knows Kurapika loves more than anything. He looks up at Kurapika, right in his eyes, tightens his hands and breathes out

“Please, daddy,”

In that low, rough, sexed out voice that he knew made Kurapika’s pussy throb. Kurapika’s eyes slide shut and he takes a deep, shaky breath, and tightens the chain. 

“Say it again,” he commands, and Kanahara knows he won’t let up. He fucking hates begging, it’s so demeaning, but he has to fuck Kurapika more than he needs to breathe, and besides, he’d do fucking anything Kurapika ever asked him to do. 

If Kurapika asked him to end his own life, he’d do it without hesitation.

To move away from that rather dark note he’d found himself thinking of, he steels himself and arches his neck to choke himself harder because it feels  _ fantastic. _

“God, d--hahh~~daddy, if you don’t get on my dick right now I might just--nddh~!” Kurapika flicked the tip of his cock, “I’ll fucking  _ die-- _ I need you like water, honeybee,  _ please--”  _ he says, choked off with a whimper. His feet slide for purchase against the sheets and he feels like crying, he needs it so bad. 

Kurapika doesn’t say anything, but it seems to be enough because suddenly he’s dropping onto Kanahara’s cock and they’re both shrieking with pleasure as they melt into each other. 

Kurapika is hot and tight and slick around Kanahara, and in turn Kanahara is big and thick and Kurapika feels like he’s breaking something as he sinks down further onto him, the chain vanishing from around Kanahara’s neck as his concentration slips away from him. Kurapika falls forward a little with a bitten off whimper, eyes shut tight, hair swinging around his face. 

He reaches for Kanahara’s hands and pulls them off of his hips, and laces his fingers with them instead. Kanahara’s heart nearly stops as Kurapika leans against his hands and starts to bounce, fingers tightening around Kanahara’s hands. 

He’s never done this before, and it makes Kanahara wonder whether the strangely intimate gesture meant anything. It likely didn’t, though, and that was...that was okay. It could be okay.

Kanahara focuses instead on the way Kurapika feels, his sloppy wet cunt searing hot around him, the way he sounds, with those gorgeous whimpers and groans of intense pleasure falling from those pretty, bitten lips. He starts to rock his hips up to meet Kurapika’s, the room filling with their gasps and wet slapping sounds and whispered murmurs of “ _ daddy,”  _ and  _ “honeybee” _ and  _ “fuck, Hara,” _ among other things. 

Kanahara can barely hold on much longer, and when Kurapika shifts angles to practically bruise into his g-spot with every thrust and a tear runs down his nose, Kanahara knows that he’s close too. 

He knows Kurapika can’t get pregnant, that’s been established, but he still feels the need to ask.

“Pika--Honeybee-- can I cum in--  _ fahh~~  _ inside?” he says around a little cry of pleasure, and Kurapika hastily nods, hands tightening like a vice around Kanahara’s.

“Fill me up and make me cry,” Kurapika breathes, barely audible over the hard, fast, sloppy slapping noises that are filling the room. 

But Kanahara wants to make Kurapika cum before he does, wants to be certain that he’s made Kurapika feel good. So he pulls a hand away from Kurapika’s and snakes it between his legs, sliding wet fingertips across his clit even as he fucks him harder. 

That little touch has Kurapika tossing his head back with a cry of ecstasy, coming hard all over Kanahara’s cock. Kanahara can barely hold on much longer and cums right after Kurapika does, driving deep and hard up into him and coming so deep inside of him that he’s briefly afraid Kurapika really will get pregnant. 

But his fears are driven away by the look of utter bliss on Kurapika’s face as he wilts above him, panting and shaking with sweat dripping off of his body and making his skin gleam like polished marble. Kanahara thinks he’s quite possibly the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. 

Kurapika delicately lifts a leg and pushes himself off of Kanahara’s cock, looks as though he wants to kick Kanahara out of his hotel room for a moment, then decides he’s too tired and falls into the sheets next to him. 

“I’ll be right back,” Kanahara says softly, and stands and stumbles to the bathroom. He finds a washcloth and a water bottle by the sink, gets the cloth wet with warm water, and returns. Kurapika barely bats an eye when Kanahara wipes the cum and sweat away, but sits up when he’s offered the water and drinks it. 

He’s silent, and Kanahara knows he should leave like he’s done every time before, but he really,  _ really  _ doesn’t want to. 

Something feels different about this time, and he doesn’t know what. Kurapika looks like he can feel it too, but he doesn’t want to talk about it. And Kanahara can live with that. 

But he should leave, so he slides off the bed and starts collecting his clothes, then he can practically hear Kurapika frown behind him. 

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Kanahara turns, surprise written all over his face. 

“What?” 

Kurapika doesn’t look him in the eye and shifts a little, laying back down into the bed and turning his back to Kanahara. 

“You can stay. I think I’ll want a round two in the morning.”

Kanahara can’t help but gape. He’s never stayed the night before. 

He stands still for a while, debating whether to actually stay or not, but then Kurapika clears his throat impatiently and Kanahara scrambles back into the bed, hastily laying back down behind Kurapika. 

He wonders if he can touch him, or if he should just turn his back and lay like that. He stares at Kurapika’s back for a long while, then scoots a little closer. Kurapika doesn’t object. He scoots even closer, practically laying on the same pillow, his breath coasting along the wet hair on the back of Kurapika’s neck. 

He reaches out an arm, fingers trembling a little, and drapes his arm over Kurapika’s waist. Kurapika does nothing, and Kanahara could cry from how tight his chest feels for some reason. Then Kurapika reaches down and laces his fingers with Kanahara’s and scoots into his chest. He says nothing. 

Kanahara lets his head fall against the back of Kurapika’s neck and he smiles against his skin, closing his eyes. 

It wasn’t much, but it was progress. An unspoken truce. 

And that was enough. 

**Author's Note:**

> see, I had a very, very bad week. so I wrote this entirely self-indulgent fic as a way of coping. yeehaw


End file.
